


Silent Night

by bluetigerlilies



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Big Brother Diego Hargreeves, Brotherly Bonding, Canon Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, No Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21810328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetigerlilies/pseuds/bluetigerlilies
Summary: The last time Diego had given Klaus money he’d regretted it for over four years. It wasn’t so much about his distrust for Klaus and what he would do with the money as it was more about the fact that he’d given it to him in the first place. He’d spent a long time writing a mental list of all the other things he could have done that night, but when one year became two and Klaus never called, he tried to convince himself to stop feeling bad about it and move on. They were never really brothers anyway.--In which Diego runs into Klaus after an overdose for a night in 2014 and old memories resurface--some painful, some happy. Diego internally struggles with expressing his feelings and being a good brother.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Everyone, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves/Eudora Patch
Comments: 22
Kudos: 81





	Silent Night

The last time Diego had given Klaus money he’d regretted it for over four years. It wasn’t so much about his distrust for Klaus and what he would do with the money as it was more about the fact that he’d given it to him in the first place. He’d spent a long time writing a mental list of all the other things he could have done that night, but when one year became two and Klaus never called, he tried to convince himself to stop feeling bad about it and move on. They were never really brothers anyway.

When Diego saw him again after their Magnificent Prick Of A Father kicked the bucket, Klaus had looked the same as he did before. It would have been amusing if the truth of it wasn’t so ugly. Klaus hadn’t changed at all, and Diego was resentfully unsurprised.

The five of them were in the same room for the first time in a decade or more, and Diego’s eyes flicked desperately around the room, hoping for something to land on so he wouldn’t catch Allison’s wandering eyes. Or Vanya’s. And especially Luther’s. He watched Klaus from across the too-large, too-cold-and-clean-to-have-ever-housed-children room as he poured himself a glass of whiskey from the long neglected liquor cabinet. He thought of the parting words he had given him the last time they met, and he closed his eyes and frowned, trying to focus on the conversation at hand.

  
  


**December, 2014**

He was boxing alone when the police scanner cut through the silence.

It had only been a few weeks since he had been kicked out of the police academy, and he was already becoming restless. “No terrible loss,” he found himself mumbling in moments when he was feeling particularly indignant. In the corner of the ring he could hear the chatter of his police scanner. He wasn’t technically allowed to have it, but as long as he didn’t show up at any crime scenes, there was nothing wrong with listening to it. Diego didn’t give two shits either way. He needed to bide his time somehow. He hit the cylindrical bag once, twice, ten times. He had nothing else to do as of late. With each blow he pictured a specific face. His father, the captain of his precinct, a rapist he took down once, his father, a burglar, his father.

He let out a puff of hot air and rubbed the dribbling sweat off his brow feverishly. Positioning his fists in front of him, he squared his shoulders and got ready for the next blow.

_ “...ossible overdose outside the Everleigh Club on King street…” _

Diego froze. His glove hovered just in front of the bag. He held his breath for a moment, five thumps of his heart… nah. It would have to be an insane coincidence. Besides, Klaus  _ must _ have gotten himself sorted out by now. There was no way. He positioned himself once again and let out a breath.

_ “...male, mid-twenties, slim build, curly brown hair…” _

His fist missed the bag. He held his position for a moment, jaw clenching and unclenching, fists shaking. He swallowed, and his legs, numb with adrenaline, dashed over the ring.

  
  


Somewhere, in the darkness, a group of carolers were singing Silent Night. Their voices echoed vibrantly across the milky white snow, chiming like church bells. Blue and red lights flashed across Diego’s sweaty face as he neared the club. Slowly, slowly, but not too slowly. The brightness of the lights disturbed the peaceful blue of the night, sirens bleeding into the voices and overpowering them, the wet ground mirroring the bright lights like glass. Diego ignored the way his knees threatened to buckle as he approached the ambulance. His head turned right to left as he tried and failed to find Klaus.

“Hey!” A voice barked from behind him. He didn’t care.

He pushed past a small crowd of scantily clad- and appropriately shivering- people.

“Klaus!” Diego called, but his voice was swallowed by the murmur of the crowd and the screeching of the sirens.

“Hey!” The voice called again, and soon a hand took hold of his shoulder and roughly turned him around.

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

Eudora. Shit. He would have to explain himself quickly.

“I-I need to see who it is,'' was the best he could muster. He swallowed dryly, and Eudora looked at him, puzzled, with a hand cupped behind her ear, likely to hear him better. When it seemed she’d figured out what he said, she gave him a familiar warning look and spoke loudly over the sirens, “Diego, you can’t be here! You have to  _ leave _ so I can do my  _ job _ !”

She was a big fancy cop now, Diego knew all too well. It was no wonder she would complete her training with such flying colours- she was always hard-working. Though Diego knew her end goal was to be a detective.

He fumbled his words when he heard the clacking of a stretcher behind him. He ignored Eudora’s demands and followed the sound.

His feet stuck in place when he saw the body on the ground.

The man was dressed all in black, a stark contrast against the frozen ground. Fuzzy black coat, black pants, black boots. He was on his side, his long legs splayed out lazily on the ground and his arm was stretched out on the sidewalk in front of him, weakly grabbing at nothing. The paramedic held his arm and turned him over, getting ready to move him onto the stretcher, and Diego’s chest went cold.

The man’s head turned sluggishly with the rest of his body, and Diego focused on his ashen face. It burned itself into his memory- an intrusive, nightmarish sight. His jaw was slack, bubbles of vomit seeping out the side of his parted lips, which were turning blue. His eyelids fluttered, revealing the whites of his eyes, skyward, unseeing. Diego lurched forward.

“Klaus!” He screamed, grabbing at him. “Klaus!”

The paramedic pushed him away and called out to him, although Diego couldn’t hear. His ears were ringing and blood was rushing through his head like a wave crashing.

“P-p-p-please…” Diego stammered, shaking. A familiar hand brought him back on his feet and pulled him away.

“Diego! Didn’t you hear me?!”

“Eudora-” He started, but she quickly held a hand out in front of her, hushing him.

“Diego, you could get in serious trouble if you don’t-”

“I know him.”

She frowned, obvious concern beginning to grow on her face, although she would never want him to notice. But he knew her. “What?” she asked.

“He-he’s m-m-my… b-b-b-b…” Diego let out a huff, failing to make the words come out. If he could just get one damn sentence out… He quickly looked back to Klaus, who was now being placed into the ambulance.

“I should go w-w-with him. I don’t think anyone else is coming. Can I use your car?”

Eudora shot him a tired look, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her eyes were gentle, sad. She assessed his face for a moment, and took a deep breath, “I’ll drive you,” she sighed.

Diego’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking on the drive to the hospital. He hoped Eudora wouldn’t notice. He placed one hand between his knees and turned his head to the window, leaning on his knuckles. They pressed against his teeth. He wanted to bite down.

She took his left hand in hers and interlocked their fingers together. He forced himself not to turn and look at her.

  
  


Eudora bought him coffee, ignoring his many protests. She sat with him for an hour or two- he couldn’t keep track. His ears were still ringing and his concept of time was shot. His body was tired, but his mind would not shut off. He bounced back and forth between wanting her there with him and wanting her to leave. Diego took her restlessness and many casual walks to the water fountain or the hall as a sign that she was not sure if she wanted to be there either. He hated it. There was a time when they could sit in a room with each other for hours without getting bored of each other’s company. Or maybe there wasn’t. Maybe all those long silences weren’t comfortable after all.

She’d known about his family. He had given her the spiel when they started dating the first time. Then he regretted telling her when they broke up. And once they got back together, all of his secrets were suddenly secure again. And then it was over again.

She left him some time later, with a fresh cup of coffee for him. Diego wanted to ask her to stay, but the words wouldn’t come up. She cupped his chin in her hand, moving it to hold his cheek, brushing the scar on his face with a gentle thumb. She didn’t need to say anything. He looked up at her, lips parting to speak, and she smiled down at him sadly.

He curled up on the chairs by himself, placing his coffee on the ground. He would drink it later. Or maybe he would offer it to Klaus. His eyelids became heavy and he eventually succumbed to a short sleep- if only for just a few minutes- just to rest his eyes. His arm slid off the chair. He thought of Klaus.

_ He dropped his suit jacket on the back of a plush chair in the main hall. Behind him, he could hear Allison’s hushed sobs, little hiccups. She had been attached to Luther’s arm since they woke up that morning. Luther hadn’t said a word. Out of the corner of Diego’s eye he could see the taller boy’s lips pressed into a tight line, his chin held high as Allison cried on his shoulder, trying her damndest to mask her sobs. He could sense the silent judgement from Luther, always the daddy’s boy, keeping all of them in check. Diego wanted to disappear. _

_ Instead, he pulled roughly at his tie, angry movements, and gentle white hands placed themselves over his. _

_ “Here, dear.” _

_ Mom. She loosened his tie properly, taking special time and care so as not to wrinkle it. When she pulled it off his neck she brushed his broadening shoulders and smiled down at him, a smile like milk and honey, but it was missing from her eyes. “Can robots cry…?” he thought distantly. _

_ Vanya had placed herself on one of the sofas, her long black dress smothering her legs and swallowing her small frame. She was focused on the floor, ever silent, ever invisible, and her bangs covered her surely bloodshot eyes. If she was crying no one would ever hear. _

_ “Number Three!” boomed their father as he entered the room. His entire presence was loud. He wasn’t wearing black like the rest of them. Instead, he was dressed as he always was. Unusual colours and textiles, with a waistcoat to match, with the glimmer of the thin golden chain of his monocle standing out against the lush fabric. “There will be none of that! You must learn to hold your composure! We have important things to do.” And with that, he left. Allison wiped her eyes silently and Luther placed a strong arm around her. _

_ Grace looked around the room, “Where is your brother?” she asked to no one in particular. _

_ Klaus left the funeral early. He was shifting uncomfortably the entire time, stealing glances here and there. Diego wanted to tell him to get a grip but their father demanded absolute silence. They had all planned some sort of speech of their own, but alas, not one of them got the chance to share. Their heartbroken words and apologies and memories were left for their own ears in the quiet hours of the night because no one else would ask to listen. Why did they do that? _

_ “I’ll go,” Diego spoke, breaking the silence. He made his way to their bedrooms and heard a voice. He stepped lightly across the floor in front of Klaus’ room and pressed his ear against the door. _

_ “...pleeeease… stopitstopitstopit… just go away…” _

_ Diego blinked, frowning. He placed his knuckles over the door and hesitated. Klaus was crying--quiet, whimpery sobs, muffled behind a hand. The kind you make when you don’t want anyone else to hear. Diego suddenly felt very invasive. _

_ “Get out, get the fuck out, pleeeeease…… LEAVE ME ALONE!” _

_ Diego jumped, taking his hand back, and walked to the kitchen. He stayed there for a few hours, enjoying the silence and isolation. There were no words in the house. They had all placed themselves somewhere far away from each other, opting to be alone with their grief. Allison, to cry, Luther, to punch his wall and curse himself for not doing something to help on the mission- his yelling was heard across the house, too empty, too many echoes- and Vanya- well, she wandered into the kitchen sometime later. _

_ “Yeah?” he spoke first. She didn’t move from her place in the doorway. _

_ “Klaus won’t come out of the bathroom,” she said, almost inaudibly. _

_ Diego got up from his seat, sighing. Klaus was known to take incredibly long baths and they had plenty of empty bathrooms in the house. He didn’t understand why Vanya needed to get into this particular one. She guided him to it and he followed, nonetheless. _

_ He knocked three times. “Klaus?” he waited for an answer. It was eerily silent. _

_ “Are you sure he’s in there?” he looked down at Vanya with a quizzical brow. She nodded, and knocked for him. Still no answer. _

_ He was starting to get annoyed. Klaus loved playing games to rile people up. It wasn’t until Diego heard wet coughing and moaning from the other side of the door that the panic grew within him. _

_ “Klaus?” he asked again, trying to mask the panic in his voice. It was no secret that Klaus had been experimenting with drugs- for how long, Diego didn’t know. None of them had paid much attention to Klaus’ antics, knowing well by the time they were fourteen that attention just fuled him to do more stupid things. Diego recalled small moments in which Klaus would openly lament about death and dying, as if it was a goal of his, but that was just Klaus being Klaus, right? He spoke about death more casually than anyone, and he joked about everything. He would never do something so reckless, would he? _

_ Diego backed up and kicked the door once, twice, three times, “Klaus! Open up!” _

_ Vanya stood a distance away and soon Luther came out of his room from behind her. He asked her what was going on and she promptly told him, or tried her best to describe what was happening because who fucking knows? But Diego really hoped Klaus was messing with him. _

_ Luther took his arm and tried to get in front of the door, “Let me,” he said. Diego scoffed. He could do this by himself. He was perfectly capable of breaking a door down. There was never a moment when he needed Luther’s help and there never would be. _

_ Diego kicked at the door aimlessly, growing frantic and Luther shoved him to the side, “Klaus!” Luther called, but there was no answer. Diego didn’t know what Luther was expecting. With one swift punch Luther knocked the door down. Vanya jumped, and Allison appeared behind her in a new outfit, face puffy. _

_ Luther was frozen in the doorway and Diego shoved past him to get into the room. At first he didn’t see Klaus at all. That is, until he heard a low moan from the bathtub. _

_ Klaus was lying in the empty tub, still dressed in the clothing he’d worn to the funeral. He had one arm over the side of the tub and his head was downcast, heavy against his shoulders. He was mumbling nonsense and he lulled his head back, eyes rolling back into his head. In the bathtub with him was an orange plastic bottle, empty. _

_ Everything happened so fast. Diego was yelling for someone to go get Mom, and he lifted Klaus out of the tub- at least, as much as he could. He was heavy and weak, quickly losing life. _

_ Diego wanted to shake him. He wanted to scream at him, cuss him out, but no sound could escape his throat. He stepped back wordlessly when Grace entered the room and scooped Klaus out of the tub, easy for her because Klaus had become so thin lately. She checked his vitals, quickly, but controlled, and Diego’s eyes drifted to the tall figure at the other end of the hall. _

_ Their father stood silently behind them all. His eyes met Diego’s for a moment before he turned and walked away without a word. _

_ Grace took care of Klaus. He slept the entire next day, but he seemed fine after that. Well, as fine as he could have been. Everything changed after that. He was always high, always sneaking out and coming home when everyone else was asleep. He would challenge their father with a new degree of malice whenever he was asked where he’d been, jaw jutting out, arms wide at his sides, trying to appear bigger. It usually ended with Klaus being locked in his room, or somewhere worse. He would come on missions high as a kite and would end up being more of a burden than a help. The press kept a curious eye on him and their father kept them satisfied with hush money until they got bored. _

_ It was the first time he overdosed. They were seventeen. Diego tried to convince himself he didn’t do it on purpose, but he would never know. They didn’t talk about it. _

_ Soon, Diego would leave forever. _

Somebody kicked his hand, and he snorted, jolting awake. His jaw was sore from pressing against the hard hospital chair and he couldn’t feel his leg. Diego blinked harshly at the ground below him. His coffee. It must’ve gone cold a long time ago. Shit. And two legs, clad in black skinny jeans and a pair of black boots.

Diego shot up off the chair. Klaus was smirking down at him, a flippant smile, his arms crossed.

“Klaus, what the f-”

“Well I’ll be damned!” Klaus cooed in a mock-southern belle drawl, “What the hell is mein lieber bruder doing here?”

Diego sat up, rubbing the hinge of his jaw, “I… what? What do you mean?”

Klaus chuckled, light and airy. He seemed awfully chipper for someone who was almost dead a few hours ago. “Did you get yourself into a fight?”

Diego’s eyebrow twitched. Enough. “I came here for you, dumbass! How’d they let you up and about?”

Klaus pointed a finger at his own chest, eyebrows raised, “Me? Oh, I feel fine! I signed myself out!”

Diego was not buying it. Klaus was still pale as ever, and his eyes were red-rimmed. He was like a ghost, so thin and so white he was barely there. Diego could have picked a fight with him, but he couldn’t wait to get off of those damn chairs.

“C’mon,” he said simply, grunting when he lifted himself off the chair, and walked past Klaus.

“Hah?” Klaus swivelled around rather dramatically to look at Diego, “Where are we going?”

Diego thought for a moment. He wanted to say, “rehab, asshole.” Instead, he said “McDonald’s.”

Klaus’ face lit up.

  
  


He looked like shit, Diego noticed immediately. His dark curls were caked in either mud or vomit, he wasn’t entirely sure, and his eyes were rather puffy and lined in a peculiar shade of black, smudged to high heaven- no doubt from days of leaving it on. He was shivering, although it was obvious he was trying to hide it under his large fluffy coat. His- still puffy- eyes were focused rather intensely on Diego’s fries.

“Are you going to eat those?” Klaus asked, pointing a painted nail at the greasy pile, but Diego had already slid his fries in front of him, anticipating the question. He wasn’t hungry for junk food.

Diego watched as Klaus dove into the carton of fries, stuffing handfuls into his mouth and chewing, then stuffing more in before he swallowed. Diego almost scoffed at the sight of him. He wondered when he had eaten last. If it had been days, or only hours, and if Klaus was playing up the starving homeless junkie role to be funny. He curled his nose at the thought.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”--was not what Diego was expecting to come out of his mouth, but it was too late now and Klaus had already halted his starving-animal-like ingurgitating to stare at the table between them.

His expression faltered for only a moment, a flicker of guilt, a flicker of remorse--Diego could have missed it if he blinked- before he spoke, “Whaddya mean?”

Diego bit his lip and huffed, “What do I--I mean you fucking overdosed, asshole! You were on the sidewalk with vomit coming out your mouth! You could have gone into convulsions and died!”

Klaus stared at him wide-eyed, fry in hand, as he yelled. Then, his eyes searched the McDonald’s. It was two A.M. and there were only a few people there, but Diego couldn’t care less.

“Yes, I _ know _ …” Klaus started, popping the fry into his mouth, “It was just a lil’ accident. That stuff happens all the time.” Klaus brushed it off with such ease, waving a lazy hand dismissively at him, palm decorated with a bold “HELLO”--a new sight since Diego had last seen him. He wanted to ask Klaus what the hell he meant by “it happens all the time,” but his thoughts were interrupted.

“Besides,” Klaus continued, “I’m  _ celebrating _ !”

“Celebrating what?” Diego asked, although he didn’t really want to indulge him.

“Getting out of rehab!” Klaus sang through a mouthful of fries.

“What? When?”

“Just this morning,” he laughed, “I guess fifth time’s the charm, then.” he smiled, but Diego didn’t smile back.

“Klaus, why….” Diego didn’t know how to end that question. Neither of them spoke for a moment.

Klaus was watching the wall behind Diego. He had a crease in his brow, and he seemed stuck in place. He quickly tore his eyes from whatever it was he was seeing and rubbed them with the backs of his hands, child-like. He looked out the window beside them for a long moment, then spoke, too loud, “It’s Christmas.”

Diego watched his face, unmoving, staring wistfully out at the snow. He wondered what it was like in rehab. If he was allowed to go out, how long it had been since Klaus had been outside, “Not yet,” he said. He pressed on, “Where are you staying?”

Klaus tore his eyes from the window, “Hm? Oh, nowhere. I’m homeless.”

A long silence passed between them. Klaus continued to stuff fries into his mouth, albeit not as enthusiastically. The metal pendants around his neck jingled as he shifted to stare out the window at the passing cars. His lips moved with silent words, probably subconsciously. Diego had never seen him so quiet before- well, besides his accident when they were twelve, which in hindsight was probably his introduction to the Wonderful World of Painkillers, but Diego was only guessing. Looking at him now, he did look quite different, although some of the superficial differences could likely be fixed with a shower and a good grooming. But his eyes were different. They would change every now and again, from wild and curious- forever crazy Klaus- to aged and vacant. And sometimes, when he probably thought Diego wasn’t looking, they would glaze over, despondent. This was one of those times. He sighed. Diego wondered if his eyes looked like that, too.

“Come on,” he started, shoving his chair back as he stood. Klaus looked up lazily.

“Where are we going now?”

Diego didn’t say. He jerked his head towards the exit and Klaus collected his last few fries, staring at an empty space in the restaurant, pursing his lips and shrugging.

  
  


“So, how long have you been, uh…”

“Homeless?”

Diego nodded.

“Well, since Daddy kicked me out--maybe six or seven years?”

Diego looked at him, successfully hiding his shock and concern with a stern face.

“I mean, that doesn’t include my time in rehab and crashing on people’s couches, and that time I went to prison-”

“Okay, enough,” Diego stopped him with a wave. They had been walking around in the cold for upwards of twenty minutes, but despite Diego’s numb toes, he pressed on. He didn’t want Klaus running off and getting high again, so he opted to distract him as long as he could. How sad that was, he realized. It wasn’t possible for the two of them to just spend time together like normal people. Although “normal” was something they had both accepted they would never be before they could read. Diego watched Klaus carefully out of the corner of his eye, ready to grab him if he tried to run away. He knew that tactic wouldn’t last for long. Klaus was fidgeting, definitely noticing at that point that Diego had been watching him.

“Ugh, I’m hungry!” Klaus exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. He returned them to his sides, likely attempting to hide the way he itched at his arms.

“You literally just ate,” Diego said flatly. Klaus stuck his tongue out at him.

“You know what?” Klaus mused, “It’s really late. I’ve gotta hit the hay. I have a pal who lives nearby…”

Diego frowned, “Uh huh. Klaus, you don’t have any friends.”

Klaus’ mouth hung open in mock offence. He slapped a hand to his chest and gasped, “Wow! I so  _ do _ have friends. You don’t know my circle, bro.”

“Your drug circle?” Diego tilted an eyebrow at him.

Klaus wrinkled his nose at that. He mumbled something again about finding a place to sleep, and he held up a hand in farewell.

Diego spoke before he could think, “Just stay at my place tonight.”

Klaus seemed taken aback at that. His mouth froze slightly open and he blinked dumbly. Diego hadn’t expected it either. He hadn’t expected to run into Klaus at all, for that matter. And now he was babysitting him like they were kids all over again. When they were kids, Diego would distract Klaus from the repeated insults and demands from their father. Diego could take it up to a point, but Klaus was different. He knew that he let their father’s words get under his skin. He could see it on his face when his comedic routine would waver. Klaus hadn’t changed at all. Except now, Diego had to distract him from himself and his cravings, which was not an easy feat. Klaus was smarter than they had all given him credit for. To be fair, he also created a reputation for himself in which he didn’t seem very smart. But Diego noticed himself thinking that perhaps it was easier to make everyone else believe you were stupid and reckless by default than admit that you do such reckless things because you’re in pain.

“Come on,” Diego beckoned him towards a bus stop. His place wasn’t far.

Klaus stood still for a moment, obviously thinking it over. He took a nervous glance at an alley and caught Diego’s eye once more. He clapped his hands and stepped forward, chanting something silly along the lines of “it’s a bro sleepover!” Diego stifled a laugh.

  
  


“There,” Diego tossed a tattered blanket over his cot, “You can sleep here. I’m okay on the floor.”

Klaus grinned wide and nodded, “That’s very sweet of you, Diego.” Instead of protesting, he hopped onto the cot, wet boots still on, and made himself comfortable. Diego sighed and pursed his lips.

He spread a heavy blanket over the floor as a makeshift bed and yanked his pillow from under Klaus’ curly head, “I’m at least taking my pillow, though.''

Klaus whined and flopped over so he was on his stomach, supported by his arms crossed under his chin, “Man, you really live in squalor. I thought I had it bad. And I’ve slept in public washrooms!”

Diego grit his teeth and explained that he cleaned the boxing studio in exchange for the small room. It was good enough for him. He never had any guests, and he never wanted any anyway. Klaus was the first person he had ever brought to his place. Even when he and Eudora were dating, they always stayed at her apartment. Diego liked having a private space of his own. A place free of anyone else’s touch, where he could be alone with himself and his thoughts and his memories. It seemed that Klaus had now contaminated his space. Well, Diego still found himself preferring Klaus staying with him and getting his wet shoes all over his bed than being out on the streets again, although he would never tell him that.

Diego slipped off his coat and shoes and crept over to his mini fridge where he retrieved a cold bottle of vodka. He had stopped drinking lately, and only held on to such a bottle for special occasions, “Remember those stupid sleepovers we used to have when we were teenagers?”

Klaus laughed, high-pitched and airy, “Yeah, where we’d get so drunk and loud that Luther would break in and shut the whole thing down?”

Diego smirked, “Yeah. Fucking Luther had to go and crash the party every time.”

“He could have joined us!” Klaus whined, “If he’d’ve fished that stick out of his ass he would have had an easier time sitting down with us!”

Diego snorted. He turned around, revealing the bottle in all its shining glory.

Klaus’ mouth hung open, “Heyyy, what happened to you wanting me to get sober?” he snickered.

Diego shook his head, “Fuck it. Just one night. It’s not like you were suddenly gonna be the perfect model of sobriety tomorrow anyway.”

Klaus laughed at that and reached for the bottle, flexing his long fingers, “I remember Ben setting my room on fire once during a particularly crazy sleepover of ours,” he mused. He took a greedy swig from the bottle, unflinching, and sharply turned his head to the wall opposite him, “No, that was totally you. I was busy trying to put on a fashion show but Diego didn’t wanna do it, and you thought it would be a great idea to light a candle right next to my curtains.”

Diego’s eyes followed his to the vacant wall. Klaus made a face at the empty space and took another swig.

“Ben hardly ever drank with us,” Diego grabbed the bottle from Klaus’ extended arm and brought his lips to it.

“He just liked hanging out with us.”

Diego nodded, and Klaus spoke again,

“Too bad for him, because he never really got to taste my awesome cocktails!” He kissed his fingers and giggled, reaching for the bottle again.

“Those disgusting science experiments? I swear you were trying to kill me…”

Klaus hummed into the neck of the bottle. He flicked his eyes to the wall, “Guess I would have gotten you killed anyway, then. Sorry, bro.”

Diego’s eyebrows twitched in a small flinch. Klaus didn’t believe that, did he? Diego was reminded of his father’s words at Ben’s funeral-the way he singled Klaus out for “failing to do his duty on the mission”, as they were all expected to have each other’s backs. Whether Klaus were imagining Ben in the room with them at that moment or if he really was there, Diego didn’t know. But he knew one thing- if Ben’s ghost was roaming around, he definitely would not believe that any of them had caused his death, least of all Klaus. The two were always very close, ever since they were small. Even Diego didn’t share the bond with Klaus, or any of his siblings, that Ben did. Diego wanted to tell him. He grabbed for the bottle. Thoughts never flowed out of Diego’s mind easily. He wanted to give Klaus some solace.

“Well,” he tried, “I know Ben would have kicked your ass if he’d been alive to see you nearly kill yourself.”

Uneasily, Diego struggled to meet Klaus’ eyes. To his surprise, they were wide and still, sharp and green, cutting through the darkness in Diego’s room like a hot knife. His eyebrows were high and wrinkled, and his mouth was tight. Diego got that cold feeling in his chest again. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said that.

Klaus’ lip curled in a smirk and he laughed, loud, obnoxiously, his feigned amusement obvious to Diego.

“Yeah, I guess he’s the lucky one, huh?” Klaus chuckled, taking a couple gulps of cold vodka. When his eyes met Diego’s they were wet and red, but he smiled.

“We should go to sleep,” Diego whispered. Klaus nodded silently, smiling, still clutching the bottle.

They laid in the darkness, head to head, Klaus on the cot and Diego on the cold stone floor. Diego played their final conversation in his head over and over, and listened to the silence. He waited for Klaus to say something into the darkness, anything. Where when they were children he hated to hear Klaus’ crazy laugh in the hours after they’d turned out the lights, he now longed for it. He breathed deep and found his eyelids getting heavy. Once more, he gave in to sleep.

_ It was early in the morning when he left his room for the last time. The sun had not come up yet, and as far as he could tell, everyone else was still asleep. Even Pogo, who woke up at the most ungodly hours. Diego had specifically planned this morning around everyone’s schedules so he wouldn’t get caught. _

_ He fished through his desk drawer, retrieving a handwritten letter he’d been working on all night. It wasn’t terribly long, but it addressed everything he wanted to say but couldn’t. At the top of the page was one word, scrawled hurriedly with smudged ink--“Mom.” _

_ He crept through the hall, glancing at each of his siblings’ closed doors, a final unspoken goodbye, and hiked his backpack over his shoulder, shoes in his other hand so as to not make any noise. _

_ He made it down the stairs successfully, using the moonlight shining through the large windows as his guide, although he had hurried down those same stairs so many times before missions that he could do it blindfolded and missing a leg. He picked up speed when he reached the bottom of the stairs, sparing a final glance at the landing. He wasn’t sure if he was waiting to be caught or if he was just drinking in his final moments in hell. Whichever the case, he forced himself to move on, turning to slip past the couch. _

_ A noise startled him and he nearly dropped his shoes, which would have blown his cover entirely. He darted his head around, searching for the source of the noise. A quiet “psst” caught his attention from one of the couches. _

_ A head of curly brown hair popped up from its place on the couch. Klaus leapt up, waving, and Diego sighed, clutching his heart. _

_ “Diego!” he whispered sharply, “Wait! I’m coming with you.” _

_ It was only then that Diego noticed the bags strewn across the floor next to the couch. Klaus was clad in a warm jacket, unfamiliar to Diego, and likely not his. He had probably gotten it during one of his infamous nights out- something that was becoming a regular occurrence for him. _

_ “How did you know I was leaving?” Diego asked, ignoring Klaus’ last statement. _

_ Klaus picked up one of his bags, “Ben told me,” he said matter-of-factly, “He saw you packing yesterday.” _

_ Diego pinched the bridge of his nose. Not again… “Again with the Ben thing?” _

_ Klaus nodded urgently, not noticing Diego’s annoyance. Diego looked past him. It was obvious he was on something. He was jittery and spoke too fast. Diego wanted to run away right at that moment and just leave all of this behind him. _

_ “Klaus…” he started, gently, “This is something I wanted to do alone. I’m sorry.” _

_ For a moment it didn’t look like Klaus was listening. He just kept nodding enthusiastically after Diego was finished talking. Then he realized what Diego had said. _

_ “Wait, why?” _

_ Diego looked away apologetically, “I’ve been planning this for a long time. Longer than you think. I’ve already got a part-time job set up and I just can’t afford any…” _

_ “Burdens.” _

_ “No-” Diego started, but went silent, “That’s not what I meant. I have to go, okay? You’ll be fine here. You have Allison.” He turned to leave, making his way to the front door. He reached out to unlock it and Klaus stood in his way. _

_ “I don’t have Allison. I have no one…” Klaus whispered, sucking on his lips, “I want to come with you,” he said again, more urgently, avoiding Diego’s eyes. _

_ “Why?” he asked, now frustrated. This was becoming more painful than he had wanted, “You have everything you need here--food, shelter, a bed, Mom...” _

_ “Dad said…” Klaus started, then looked down, “He said I was going to wind up dead in an alley sooner than I think. And he didn’t care. It was like he wanted me to die.” _

_ Diego sucked in a breath. He knew how their father talked to him. And he knew that his attitude towards him had gotten especially bad after Ben’s death and Klaus’ constant using. He wanted to tell Klaus that their dad’s opinion didn’t matter. That the old man was a piece of shit. But Klaus knew all of that. _

_ “Please?” Klaus tried again, voice growing in desperation. He nudged Diego, snapping him out of his reverie. _

_ Diego looked him in the eyes, “You want to know why I can’t take you, Klaus? Because you have a problem. A big one. And you really need to get that sorted out before you do end up dead in an alley,” he pushed Klaus out of the way and unlocked the door. _

_ Tugging his shoes on, Diego stepped out into the fresh morning air, still damp and black. He swung his bag over his shoulder and froze, realizing what he had just said. He turned to look at the door. _

_ Klaus was standing in the large doorway, skinny and pale, fully dressed for the weather with his bag at his feet. His eyes were smudged black and shiny with tears as he glared desperately down at him. _

_ “Diego… please don’t leave me here.” _

_ Diego watched him a moment longer and shook his head, forcing himself to look away. He turned, blinking harshly, and made his way down the road, willing himself not to turn around. With every step he took his desperation grew. He knew that if he turned around he would see Klaus, running to catch up with him, bags in hand and a cigarette in his mouth. “Where are we headed?” he would say, and they would laugh about it and forget about the harsh words Diego had said, because he knew no matter what that Klaus would forgive him, even if he was too stubborn to say he was sorry. He made it to the end of the street and took a deep breath. He turned around. _

_ “Klaus-” he began to say, quiet enough that Klaus would hear him if he were standing right behind him. _

_ But there was no one behind him under the streetlight. The front door was closed, and the sun was starting to rise. A hot tear tickled Diego’s cheek, startling him, _

_ “Klaus?” _

“Klaus?”

Diego shot up from his place on the floor. He hissed, suddenly feeling the pain of sleeping on the hard floor. The sun had not come up yet, but Diego could tell from the small window that it was early morning. He looked around the room and his eyes fell on the empty cot.

He bolted to his feet and checked the cot closely. It was then that he noticed the drawer where he kept all his painkillers that he used after a game was wide open. His heart flipped.

Inspecting the drawer, his fears were confirmed. All of his pills were gone. And so was Klaus. He grabbed his coat and slipped on his boots, sprinting outside.

It was cold outside, much colder than it had been the night before. It was that kind of damp cold that got under your skin and chilled your bones. Diego didn’t care. He dashed down the street, stealing glances at every alley he passed, but there was no sign of Klaus. Festive lights covered the streets and telephone poles that were adorned with wreaths and sparkly bells. The lights were harsh in the early morning light, and they penetrated Diego’s eyes like needles. His vision blurred and he slowed down, catching his breath for only a moment. How stupid could he have been? Of course Klaus had stolen his pills and left. This behaviour was so expected of Klaus, but Diego couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He mentally scolded himself for hoping that Klaus wouldn’t have been so predictable. The memory of the night he ran away wouldn’t leave his mind. Try as he might, he couldn’t get the final image of Klaus’ young face out of his head. Diego suddenly felt very guilty, and wondered how different things could have turned out if he had let Klaus come with him. He didn’t want to think about it.

Shaking his head and sighing, Diego took one last look down the empty road. The asphalt was slick and shiny, and a fluffy layer of snow covered the tops of cars and the sidewalks--untouched by footprints in the early hours of the day. It was then that he noticed shoeprints in the snow, unmistakably belonging to a pair of heavy boots. He surged forward, following the shoeprints around a corner, and he halted, staring ahead at the road.

Klaus was turned away from him, making his way down the middle of the road in a sort of daze. His arms were wrapped tightly around his middle, holding his coat closed, as the chilly wind blew his greasy curls back. Diego stood in the snow, willing Klaus to turn around and see him. He remembered the feeling, still fresh in his mind like it had happened only the night before, of turning around and seeing no one. He stammered, and cleared his throat,

“K-Klaus!”

He stopped, and slowly turned.

They were quite a distance from each other, so Diego stalked up to him, braving the wind. When he reached him, Klaus spoke first, quickly but uneasily,

“I’m sorry, Diego, I just…”

“Have a cold? Needed some painkillers? Had to meet a friend?”

Klaus stared, mouth slightly open. He was about to speak again when Diego shook his head,

“It’s okay, I don’t care,” he collected himself, swallowing, “I just want to know why you felt the need to leave without saying goodbye.”

Klaus didn’t need to say anything then, because the look on his face and the silence between them answered Diego’s question, and he felt it. He felt the resentment and the scorn--“Why did  _ you _ ?” Klaus must have been holding on to that for a while. He couldn’t blame him. He deserved that.

Diego nodded wordlessly, “Look,” he started, digging into his pocket and fishing out his wallet, “I’m going to give you some money-”

Klaus’ face changed and his eyebrows shot up for a moment, then he frowned, serious, “Wha--Diego, no. You don’t have to…”

“Just take the fucking 50 and get some food and maybe a warmer coat,” Diego said sharply. He refused to look at Klaus, silently holding the paper bill out to him. For a moment the only sound that could be heard was the crinkling of the paper in the wind.

Klaus shifted out of the corner of Diego’s eye and tightened his coat around himself. He took the bill and stuffed it into his pocket. When Diego looked up, Klaus was staring at something off to his side with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Good,” Diego said.

Klaus stifled a laugh, “You know, I can’t really get any coat for this price.”

“Take it or leave it,” Diego bit, recognising Klaus’ teasing tone. “I’m also giving you this,” he retrieved an old receipt and a pen from his pockets, grateful he  _ had _ a pen, and scribbled his number across the wrinkled paper, “Take it. It’s the number for the boxing studio. I’m there most of the time.”

Klaus took the paper hesitantly and nodded, reading the numbers. His silence was highly unusual. Diego knew something was wrong.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get breakfast, or something?” he asked. Perhaps he was overstepping. He really didn’t know what he was doing. He had seventeen years to be a big brother before he left and as far as he could tell, he didn’t use them as he should have. Klaus likely would have ended up messed up regardless of what kind of brother Diego had been. He knew that. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of being partially responsible for him. He was there through all of it--they all were--and yet, he stood by and let it all happen. What kind of family behaved that way? Diego knew, but he tried to forget it, despite his closeness with his mom and his friendship with Klaus, none of it meant much. They could never be a normal family.

He looked at his brother and he knew that he was thinking the same thing. Everyone would be appalled to see Klaus act serious, and Diego was fortunate enough to catch a glimmer of it. He would have to remember it.

“No, I should really get going,” Klaus said, shrugging. He offered Diego a crooked smile, and Diego tried to return it. He could blame the cold wind for freezing his face.

“Okay,” Diego said simply. Klaus nodded curtly at him and whirled around to leave. Diego watched him for a moment and waited for him to turn around. When he didn’t, he turned to leave. That was it. Diego didn’t expect they would see each other for a long time after that, or maybe never again. He didn’t think they would see each other again after he left the academy, and yet here they were. Klaus’ young face followed him as he walked back down the road. He cursed quietly, sighing heavily. God damn it.

“Hey!” Diego called sharply. Klaus, now farther down the road, whipped around in question.

“Don’t…” Diego hesitated. Why was it so hard for him to talk to people? He pictured his mother’s kind face in the times that she taught him to overcome his stammer. Better times, he thought. After Five went missing but before everything went irreversibly wrong. He looked back at Klaus. “Don’t become what Dad made you out to be.”

Klaus was still, his face unreadable for a moment. He cracked a small smile, like he was about to laugh at such a comment.

“Because you’re not,” Diego concluded. His voice echoed slightly across the asphalt and Klaus’ mouth opened to say something, then closed. He snorted, then let out a high-pitched laugh, unable to conceal it,

“See ya later!” he called back, holding up the 50 dollar bill and planting a trademark Klaus-kiss on it. He pocketed it and turned, leaving his “goodbye” hand in the air.

Diego didn’t watch him go this time. He turned to head back to the boxing studio, hands in his pockets. He folded his coat around himself, suddenly feeling the cold more than before. Maybe that was it. Maybe they would never see each other again. He had to be fine with that. Maybe a time would come ten years from now when circumstances would bring them back together. He would wait. Klaus knew where to find him.

**Author's Note:**

> Oops, so that was kind of sad. My first fic for Umbrella Academy, yay! And just in time for the holidays when it takes place. I originally didn't plan to make Diego the narrator, but he's just such an interesting character. It's really fun to dive into his mind and think of how he would respond to not only his father's abuse, but the ways in which his siblings dealt with it, too. We don't see an awful lot of that stuff in the show yet, unfortunately, but I did my best guessing! Maybe I'll write another that takes place in their teenage years?


End file.
